Amy dropped the forty-five to the floor.
Took another drink from the flask, wiped the blood off her hands, made a line for the door.
She spent the last year cleaning up her boyfriend's mess.  
She put a bullet to it all. She can try to run, but she can't take it back. 

She feels alive from the moment that she took his.
She's not afraid to take credit for what she did to free herself tonight.

Amy hit the three week mark on the run.
Looked up from her hotel bed, saw herself on the news, braved a call to her home.
"Mother don't you be afraid, he was a bad bad man." - she said
"He cut me up mother dear. So why is it wrong that I'm cutting back?"

She feels alive from the moment that she took his.
She's not afraid to take credit for what she did to free herself tonight.
She feels alive from the moment that she took his.
She's not afraid to take credit for what she did to free herself tonight.

..and now she's lost with the runaways. Broken down and she's peeled away, but not ashamed.
She's alone with her freedom. She moves on.
..and now she's lost with the runaways. Broken down and she's peeled away, but not ashamed.
She's alone with her freedom. She moves on.

She feels alive from the moment that she took his.
She's not afraid to take credit for what she did.
She feels alive from the moment that she took his.
She's not afraid to take credit for what she did.
She feels alive from the moment that she took his.
She's not afraid to take credit for what she did.
She feels alive from the moment that she took his.
She's not afraid to take credit for what she did.